The Darker Intention
by Arae Arca
Summary: Ethan destroys his bow and arrows to unforseen consequences. Is there some malevolent purpose behind each of the Named ones' weapons? And is the Prophecy truly fulfilled? Who made the weapons anyway? First fanfic, so please R&R!


**Now, I know you must be sick of Rochelle coming back to life and all. But I'm hoping that this should be a slightly different take on the old theme. Ah, who am I kidding? It's probably all been done before anyway! I just hope that my writing is enough to keep you hooked! **

**This is just my first fanfic, so please R&R! But please, please, not too harsh on the criticism... **

**DISCLAIMER:** **I don't own any of the characters etc, although I'd like to. A lot.**** Marianne Curley is the one you should all be thanking, for bringing such wonderful books into the world. So thank you!**

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**ETHAN **

I stagger upright, away from Rochelle's body, and start off at a run towards the cliff. I hear Matt call out my name and someone get up and race after me, but I don't slow. I can't slow. Only one thing remains in my mind- to destroy the bow, the weapon that killed my soulmate.

Eventually I reach the cliff and grasp the bow in my hands. I begin breaking it, snapping the smooth wood I once thought so beautifully made.

My pursuer comes up behind me and gasps. It's Neriah.

"Don't do that! We need our weapons to hunt down the rest of the Order!"

"I – don't – CARE!"

I throw the broken frame down to the floor and crush it to a pulp beneath my feet. Then I start on the arrows, splitting each one until I don't have the strength to snap them any more, and a broken, tangled mess remains on the ground. Neriah watches in silence.

Using my powers, I take up two sticks and rub them together, faster than I can with my hands, until they catch fire. Dropping them, I watch as the entire pile alights. The flames leap up into the sky, and it seems that one flash of light continues straight up into the heavens.

Suddenly, without warning, it hits me. Really hits me.

Rochelle is dead.

I break down on the spot, falling to my knees, weeping. I feel Neriah's arms around me, trying to comfort me, but she knows it is futile.

Rochelle.

My soulmate…

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**ROCHELLE**

To my surprise, I wake up.

At first I'm completely disoriented. What? Where am I? Then I notice the faint golden light around my body, and beyond that, a huddled group of people talking frantically.

I catch a few words of their conversation.

"- cannot be asked to remain. Better that we wipe his memory of her, so that he may live a normal life -"

"No! Arkarian, how can you even suggest that? Remember that time he thought the Tribunal was going to wipe his mind? He tried to be brave, but inside, he was appalled at the thought of forgetting!"

Arkarian? I wonder, still groggy. I know that name.

"Isabel is right." I begin to recognise the individual voices. That sounds like- Matt? "Ethan has been through much, I agree, but he can live through it. Everyone loses people."

"Why don't we ask him what he wants?" That's Shaun speaking. "We cannot wipe his mind without asking him, anyway. That would be immoral."

"Perhaps, but I'm just wondering what kind of a state of mind Rochelle's death has left him in -"

I freeze.

Rochelle's death?

Suddenly, memory returns.

Marduke, aiming Ethan's bow. Firing. Me, jumping in front of the arrow… and… dying? Didn't I die? But I'm not dead. Not… anymore.

How can this be?

The golden light slowly dissipates. I push myself up onto my elbows. A small groan rips through me, and I look down at the hole where the arrow punctured my ribcage. Blood is leaking out slowly, but as I watch, it speeds up to a steady flow, staining my clothing red.

No, I can't die now, not again! But my arms are like lead, and I can't do anything but watch my lifeblood draining away from my body.

Suddenly someone shrieks. I turn stiffly, to see that the small huddle of people have turned around and are looking at me with faces drained of colour.

"Rochelle?" Shaun asks, unbelieving.

I manage to force out a few words. "Help… help me…"

Isabel rushes over to my side and closes her eyes in concentration. Within moments I'm healed as good as new.

She steps back, her thoughts betraying uncertainty and fear, as I get up unsteadily. Breathing in deeply, I turn towards the others, shivering slightly.

"You… I thought you were dead!" gasps Dillon.

I shake my head, bewildered. "I… so did I…"

"How? How can this be?"

I turn in surprise. Arkarian is staring at me hard, his violet eyes full of questions and doubts. Almost… suspicious.

It's an emotion I've seen in many other people's eyes, but never before Arkarian's. I can't help but step back, recoiling slightly.

Eventually he sits back, momentarily defeated.

"I do not know," I reply, shivering.

I'm full of questions and uncertainties and doubts, and more than anything else that's ever happened to me, this not knowing, this _distrust_ over my very existence- well, this scares me. Badly. And although I've never been religious, I raise my eyes up to the heavens, searching the stars, craving an answer.

_Why? _

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**So, there we are. Hope you like it... :-)**

**Arae **


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